


Yet Another Damn Ranma AU

by Kawaoneechan



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: F/F, Permanent Curse Effects, Talking Animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-05 06:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15164858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaoneechan/pseuds/Kawaoneechan
Summary: Here's another one. What if there was no turning back and forth with hot and cold water?





	1. Bǎozhèng Èyùn

_Deep in the Bayankala mountain range, yadda yadda…_

“Sirs, it very bad if fall in springs,” the guide called out as his honored customers balanced on the bamboo poles sticking out of the Jusenkyō springs. Of course, they paid him no heed. The guide screamed on the inside as the older of the two was swiftly knocked off of his pole and fell towards the water below, but to his relief the man had grabbed hold of the pole and was just _barely_ touching the surface. The guide still needed a moment to recover his breath, unlike his customer.

“Hah! You’re getting sloppy, Pops,” the younger mocked from atop his own pole, watching his father climb back up. Distracted as he was by his mocking laughter, he didn’t see the fist coming until it was too late.

This time, the guide did scream out loud. This time, the Springs of Sorrow got their pound of flesh.

“ _Āiyā_ , not Spring of Immersed Girl,” the guide cried. “There tragic legend, _very_ tragic, of young girl who drown in spring one thousand five hundred years ago,” he narrated almost as a coping mechanism, watching the bubbles come up to the surface. Genma jumped down beside him as he continued, “Now whoever fall in that spring take body of young girl.”

Genma gave the guide a puzzled look, then set his sight back on the pool. To his shock, what surfaced was not exactly his son. The guide had been quite right, even with his spotty grasp of Japanese -- his son Ranma Saotome was now a young girl. True to expectations, when Ranma looked down and saw two oddly recognizable lumps, _that’s_ when the real screaming started.

* * *

“Honored customers, don’t despair,” the guide pleaded as he led the angered parent and son-turned-daughter down a mountain path. “Could be much, much worse.”

“How could it be worse than this?” Ranma demanded, adjusting her now ill-fitting but thankfully dry _gi_. “This whole journey was to make me a man among men! Ain’t that right, old man?”

“Quite so. I too would like to know what could be worse than my heir turning into some weak little _girl_.”

Ranma twitched at those words and she quickly gave her father a swift roundhouse kick to the back of the head. “This is no time for your usual sexism, old man. Bad enough this is supposedly permanent.”

The guide chuckled. “Dear sir,” he started, addressing Ranma that way as a concession, “father may be swayed when meet _Nǚjié zú_. Is village of warrior women, all of them strong as can be. And know more about Jusenkyō, could maybe help sir adjust?”

“Maybe. But ya haven’t answered the question,” Ranma reminded the guide. “How could it be worse?”

The guide shivered at the thought of what had almost happened. “Sir is still human,” he summarized, imagining the elder customer as a giant panda. “Many different animals fall in springs.” He paused to catch his bearings and pointed at a small valley. “Village just ahead, honored customers.”

* * *

“Why’d we have to do thaaat,” Ranma cried out as she ran like a sexy long-haired devil was hot on her heels. Now, Ranma was barefoot but the devil was indeed sexy and long of hair. None of that mattered, since said sexy devil wanted Ranma dead. Together with the guide and her father, Ranma ran the only way she knew; the way she’d come, back to Jusenkyō.

At least she’d had chicken.

Shānpū had almost caught up with her when Ranma reached the narrow paths separating the individual springs. She tried to disguise her position, using the ample bamboo poles and her school’s trademark fancy jumps. This wasn’t very effective, and certainly tiring, but that just boiled it down to who tired faster. Shānpū was strong, but she was also heavily armed and armored, while Ranma only had her _gi_.

It wasn’t until after Ranma heard the tell-tale splash that she realized what she’d done to her opponent. The immediate regret was only pushed back down by a morbid curiosity. If the guide was there, he’d probably ramble about that particular spring, but he was still safely on dry land. It was a little shocking to see Shānpū’s clothing surface with noone in it, but it was _more_ shocking when Shānpū herself appeared again. Ranma had to admit as she helped Shānpū out of the pool, that Shānpū made a cute kitty.

Then she nearly fell in herself when a withered old crone suddenly appeared next to her, balancing on a walking stick. “Oh, that’s a shame,” the crone started in surprisingly good Japanese. “Poor great-granddaughter, to lose twice like that… Outsider?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Shānpū is _your_ responsibility now,” the old crone stated simply, then turned to the little kitty that stared at her with wide eyes. “Shānpū? _Nín de jiātíng róngyù shì ānquán de. Zhège nǚhái huì zhàogù nǐ_ _._ ”

Genma arrived just in time to catch the important part. He silently thanked whatever god still cared to watch over him that Ranma hadn’t gone more than one round of _Nekoken_ training — the boy had taken Genma’s training guide and read the next page, then confronted his father about it. Who knew what could’ve happened if he _had_ finished the training?

“Screw it all,” Genma muttered. “Boy, grab your bags and the girl. It’s about time…” He sighed. “We’re going back to Tokyo.”

* * *

“Fiancé?”

The three Tendō sisters sat at the table, opposite their father, Sōun. “Yes,” he confirmed, “the son of a very good friend of mine. The son’s name is Ranma Saotome. If one of you were to marry him and carry on this dojo, the Tendō family legacy would be secure.”

“Wait a minute,” the youngest called out. “Don’t we get some say in who we marry?”

“Akane’s right, Daddy,” the eldest, Kasumi, agreed. “We’ve never even met Ranma.”

Sōun smirked. “That’s easily fixed. He and his father have been on a training voyage to China.”

“Wow,” the middle sister, Nabiki, approved. “Is he cute, though?”

“How old is he?” Kasumi asked. “Younger men bore me.”

Akane just pouted.

“I’ve no idea, really,” Sōun admitted. “I’ve never met the boy.”

At that moment, they heard the arrival of visitors outside. “That must be Ranma!” Nabiki cried.

“Saotome, my friend, we’ve been waiting!”

They’d guessed correctly, for standing there at the door were a very recognizable Genma Saotome and what they could only assume was his son, a short boy with a girly frame and an expression that at first glance seemed like a serious frown but looked more like a cute pout. He had his arms folded, and a purple-white cat napping on his backpack. From the red hair it seemed like he took after his mother Nodoka more than his father.

“You must be…”

“I’m Ranma Saotome. Sorry ‘bout this,” the newcomer said, clearly trying to sound deeper than their normal speaking voice.

“Sorry about what, my boy?” Sōun asked.

Genma stepped up. “We may have a slight problem, Tendō.”

* * *

Back at the living room table, Genma sat and told the story of Jusenkyō, Ranma seated next to him with Shampoo on her lap. As he got to the big reveal, Nabiki leaned over and poked Ranma in the boobs.

“Um… could you stop that?” Ranma muttered. “Yes, they’re real, and they’re a pain.”

To Ranma’s mild amusement, Shampoo batted at Nabiki’s hand when the girl declined to stop.

“So you understand that the whole ‘marry Ranma off to one of your daughters, unite the schools, secure the legacy’ thing has… hit a little snag,” Genma finished as Sōun lightly waved around in his seat as if about to faint. “There simply can’t be a marriage if they’re both girls.”

“Woah, hold up, old man. What’s this about a marriage? Why wasn’t I told of this?”

Genma sat in stunned silence for all of five seconds. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Didn’t I tell you on the way back?”

“No, you didn’t!”

To both newcomers’ surprise, Sōun laughed. “Well now! Family legacy and all that aside, you’re certainly welcome to our home, Genma-kun, Ranma-chan.”

“I’m a guy, dammit!” Ranma cried out, throwing off a surprised Shampoo who skittered away to the kitchen.

“Not anymore you’re not,” Nabiki asserted. “Y’know, now that I think of it, you and Akane might make good friends.”

“And why would I want to be friends with her?” Akane blanched. Ranma rolled her eyes.

“Well, think about it, sis. You’ve got your hang-ups about boys, Ranma- _chan_ has her own issues, and you’re both into the Art, right?”

“Yeah so?”

“Kinda am, yeah.”

“She can help you get over your boy troubles, and you can help her come to terms with her new body _and_ you get to beat the shit out of each other! It’s perfect.”

“Y’know, until I come to terms with it, generously assuming I ever _do_ , I’d really wish you wouldn’t say that.”

“I’ll try to not be quite so mean,” Nabiki conceded.

Akane looked away. “You do look good though,” she softly admitted. “Almost had me fooled.”

Nabiki clapped her hands. “Right! So why don’t you two new besties pop off to the dojo, hmm? I’ll call when Kasumi’s done with dinner.”

Genma shrugged and watched the two girls leave. “They could’ve made a good couple, I think… but what happened, happened. Now where was I?”

* * *

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kasumi had just started on dinner, feeling she knew enough about Jusenkyō to understand Ranma’s predicament, when Shampoo got there.

“Ah, hello Shampoo. Are you hungry?”

Shampoo nodded.

“Well, I do like to take care of the neighborhood kitties.” Kasumi crouched down and opened a little cabinet. “I’m sure I have something you’d like in here. Do you like kibble, Shampoo?”

“Nyo.”

“Oh my. I think I have some treats in here. Would you like a treat?”

“Nyo!”

Kasumi stood back up and looked at the kitty. “Then what would you like, Shampoo?”

Shampoo jumped onto the kitchen counter and gestured at the little bits of chicken meat that Kasumi was cutting up for dinner. Kasumi expected her to simply take the meat and run off with it, but instead Shampoo just pointed.

“You want some meat? Well, I suppose that’s okay. Go ahead and take some, dear.”

Instead, Shampoo raised a paw to her mouth and sat in thought for a second. She then remarkably carefully took a piece in her mouth and brought it over to the frying pan already waiting on the stove, then sat back and seemed to try and wash her mouth out.

“Oh, you want it cooked? Alright then!” Kasumi concluded, missing how the kitty fussed over possible food poisoning from handling raw chicken as she took the other pieces and gently dropped them into the pan, keeping Shampoo’s piece off to one side.

When Shampoo’s piece was lightly cooked, Kasumi took it back out of the pan and put it on a little plate. “Here you go, dear.”

“Nyooo!”

“You have a funny meow, Shampoo,” Kasumi remarked as she watched Shampoo carry the piece of chicken back to the pan. “Did you know that?”

“Am nyot meowing.”

“… Oh my.”


	2. Zhànshì Shīrén

In the dojo, the fight between Akane and Ranma went about as expected. As they stood there laughing at each other, Akane wiped away some sweat. “Y’know, I’m glad.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“If I’d been beaten by a boy…”

“I _am_ a boy,” Ranma snapped.

“Right, sorry. It’s actually pretty hard to get the idea down,” Akane replied, looking away with a fair bit of shame clear on her face. Ranma crossed her arms in front of her and gave Akane a serious, inquisitive look, but only managed to look more like an angry little sister.

“Exactly that!” Akane blurted out.

“Exactly what?”

“You’re like an angry little sister, looking at me like that!”

Ranma blanched. “Seriously?!”

“Trust me, I _am_ an angry little sister. I think you’re overcompensating, Ranma. If you’re even _half_ the man you were before all this happened, just act like yourself.”

Ranma stood in consideration, then relaxed her body and fell into a much more comfortable posture that reeked of confidence. If she still had her original height it would’ve been even more effective. She still held her arms crossed, but to completely different effect.

“You’re gonna have to explain that thing about being beaten by a boy, though,” she said in her normal speaking voice, hitherto only heard when she was too fired up to consciously lower.

It was at that point that Nabiki came in. “You two lovebirds about done? You might wanna catch a quick bath before dinner.”

“Dammit, sis! I’m not a—”

“Sure you’re not. Just go so you don’t stink up the dinner table.”

* * *

“Look, I just don’t see why we gotta share a bath,” Ranma argued as Akane pulled her into the laundry room.

“Honestly? It’s like Nabiki said. I have boy problems I need to work out and discussing them with you might not be such a bad way to go, _you_ have your own issues to face and this is just facing them head-on. Isn’t that one of the things a proper martial artist should do, facing your problems?”

“I guess,” Ranma conceded, trying not to look as Akane took her _gi_ off. Akane, unfortunately, noticed, even if it was just because Ranma clearly wasn’t getting ready for the bath.

“Relax, Ranma. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”

To Ranma, that almost sounded like something she would say. She sighed and unbuttoned her shirt. When her pants went off, Akane couldn’t help but notice.

“Boxers?”

“Hey, ain’t like I had anything else when this all happened.”

Though Ranma looked distinctly uncomfortable in the bathtub, it clearly wasn’t the temperature. “So… what’s this about boy problems?” she asked, still trying not to look directly at the dark-haired Tendō sitting on the opposite side.

“ _Eeeeugh_. Where do I even begin? Okay, so this guy in my school, Upperclassman Kuno, held this speech some time back. He… desires me, let’s just say. So the jackass proclaimed that if any student wanted to date me, they’d have to defeat me first.”

“…what.”

“So now every morning before school starts, it’s the same old bullshit. I guess you’ll see soon enough,” Akane sighed. “You can see, then, that I’ve had my fill of boys.”

“Guess I can. Y’ever have any, y’know, legit _feelings_ for a guy, though?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, between what this Kuno guy pulled off and y’r sister’s teasin’, I’d be tempted to think y’r a lesbian.”

Akane sat in silent thought. “What about you though, Mister Unique Position?”

“I like girls,” Ranma answered quickly. “Always have, can’t see that changin’.”

“Dyke.”

“Takes one to know one,” Ranma laughed, with Akane quickly joining in.

* * *

Kasumi brought in dinner just when Akane and a still slightly damp Ranma arrived.

“Ranma-chan,” the eldest Tendō started innocently, “did you know your kitty can talk?”

Genma jumped up in shock. “Shampoo can still talk!?”

Ranma was considerably less surprised. “Yeah, I knew. We just decided to not let the old man know. After all, Shampoo’s my responsibility ‘n all. Her granny would have my head if I let Pops run off with a magical talking cat!”

“Oh, to have your only son not trust you like that,” Genma sobbed. “It’s more than a father can bear.”

“Shut up,” Shampoo admonished, then jumped into Ranma’s lap.

“But you know, Saotome old friend,” Sōun started, “Akane and Ranma do seem to get along pretty well.”

“I suppose they do, Tendō-kun. I can’t help but notice the boy carries himself more like before.”

Ranma smirked. “Well, a little bathroom confrontation never hurt nobody. I can learn to appreciate this form. I mean, compared to Akane, at least I know I’m better built.”

She still laughed as Akane kicked her in the face.

* * *

“So tell me again why you’re bringing Shampoo to school with you?”

Ranma ran on top of a fence as she and Akane made their way to school, as a Ranma is wont to do. She still had her regular outfit, as also expected, but apparently had Shampoo stuffed in her school bag. Only her head stuck out, looking in awe at the passing architecture.

“She needs to learn too, duh.”

“Can she even read Japanese?”

“I can!” the kitty argued.

“Yeah, you can,” Ranma agreed. “But remember the deal, right?”

“No ta’king in public.”

As they approached the gates of Furinkan High, Akane noticeably shifted. “You wanted to know about my boy problems? Well, there they are! These assholes are why…”

Ranma stood back at the sight of almost fifty boys, all dressed in various sports outfits.

“I _hate_ …”

As Akane ran into the yard, the boys started to move.

“ _BOYS!_ ”

It was an utter massacre. Ranma was nothing if not impressed at how ruthless Akane was in dispatching the horde. None of them were particularly grievously injured, and there was hardly any blood, but they certainly weren’t going to get up in the next five minutes. Picking up her bag, Ranma walked up to Akane.

“I think I can see your point.”

“Yeah, that just leaves _him_ ,” Akane said, loosely pointing at a figure stood behind a tree at the far end of the yard.

“Truly… such a boorish lot,” the figure recited as he stepped away from the shade of the tree. “Each of them intends to ask you out, fair Akane, but it is not to be. Not for these wretched souls.”

“Good morning, Upperclassman Kuno,” Akane deadpanned.

“And now, Akane Tendō… might you fight with me?” Kuno finished as he drew his training blade.

“Geez, you _are_ a popular one ain’tcha ‘Kane?” Ranma joked with an easy smirk.

“You there,” Kuno interrupted, pointing his blade at Ranma. “You are being quite familiar with Akane. Who are you, dainty fellow?”

“Dainty?”

“Mine ears have heard many a rumor about the fair Akane, that she would consort with those who would lay with those of equal sex, but to see her consort with one such as _you_ …”

Akane took a sneaky look at the girl next to her. Between the relaxed posture and somewhat oversized clothes, it was hard to tell there were boobs in there. “Ranma, I think he’s trying to call you a faggot,” she helpfully translated in a whisper.

“The hell,” Ranma replied, then turned to Kuno. “Hey, Upperclassman Jackass! Who ya callin’ faggy?”

“Why, you of course. This is no place for one such as you. Furinkan is a noble institute of learning, and there is no place here for your kind.”

Two stories up, one of the boys _not_ involved in the earlier brawl, looking at the proceedings below, gasped in shock. His boyfriend was already there with a comforting shoulder.

Feeling up for a challenge, Ranma assumed one of her favorite fighting stances. “Yeah? Why don’t you come here and _remove me from the premises_ , then?” she offered, tauntingly beckoning Kuno. When the crazed swordsman struck, Ranma nimbly backflipped. Every time, Kuno would try to hit her, and she would cartwheel, backflip, or simply duck, waiting for a good time and position to strike back. During one backflip, Ranma noticed they were approaching the school’s swimming pool and formed an alternate plan.

As Kuno struck once more, Ranma dropped onto her back and kicked Kuno in the stomach, pulling him up and over into the pool. She laid there, recovering from the acrobatics and listening to the bubbles behind her, when Kuno resurfaced way too close for comfort.

“ _I FIGHT ON!_ ” he cried as he blindly grabbed Ranma and pulled her into the pool. For his effort, he was kicked into the bottom of the pool and used as a springboard for Ranma to get back out.

The bell rang just when Ranma got back to the front entrance of the school, still sopping wet.

Kuno, meanwhile, leaned on the edge of the pool, considering the most recent events.

“Breasts… those were certainly breasts these hands have felt. Which means…”

* * *

“Not to mention you are dripping pool water all over the halls. I suppose I could let all that slide, knowing of Mr. Kuno’s shenanigans, but I must ask you to change. Go see the nurse’s office, perhaps they can help you get a spare uniform.”

“Thank you, teacher,” Ranma said with a little bow, inadvertently baptizing some of her new classmates.

Shampoo sat on Akane’s desk, in a little cat-sized Furinkan girl’s uniform courtesy of Kasumi, slowly shook her head, and went back to silently reading along.


	3. Ài de Mèngyǎn

Lunch had just started when Ranma returned from the nurse’s office, dry and mighty. This suited her well enough as she looked for her friends. Shortly, she spotted Akane carrying Shampoo in her arms and joined her on the way outside.

“Oy, ‘Kane! I’m back.”

“So you are,” Akane acknowledged as she took in how Ranma was dressed. “I was just heading out for lunch with some friends. You want in? I’ll introduce you!”

“Sounds good to me. I need to know more folks here than just Kuno and your sister.”

The group — Ranma, Akane, Shampoo, two hitherto-unidentified girls, and two similarly unnamed boys — approached a large tree in the yard and sat down around it.

“Well now. Ranma, these are my best friends Sayuri and Yuka,” Akane said, indicating the girls.

Saiyuri simply gave a little wave. “Hi.”

“Why do the new girls have to be cuter than us?” Yuka jokingly complained.

“Cos I’m a guy,” Ranma grumbled.

One of the boys turned towards Ranma. “Even in that uniform, you’re not fooling anyone. Name’s Hiroshi.”

“Daisuke,” the other revealed. “I’d picked up a bit from Tendō about a Chinese curse. Is that why you say you’re a guy?”

Ranma considered the answer as she let Shampoo hop over from Akane to her. “That’s about right. I was born a guy and if it weren’t for my old man I’d die a guy.” She sighed as the others reacted with various degrees of shock and surprise. “Ya really can’t underestimate those ancient Chinese curses. Just takes one quick dip in a spring to turn a guy into a girl—”

“A _hot_ girl, no less,” Hiroshi interjected.

“I’m sure Ranma was a hottie as a boy too,” Yuka offered.

“Thank you. Or turn a human into an animal,” Ranma finished, absently stroking Shampoo’s head.

Saiyuri looked from Yuka to Shampoo, then back again. “You don’t think the kitty’s…”

“There’s no way,” Yuka argued. “She looks cute in her little school dress but there’s _no way_ she’s a cursed human. That just doesn’t happen!”

“As if a guy magically turning into a girl is a thing,” Daisuke sarcastically argued.

“But it true!”

Hiroshi nearly dropped his lunch box. Akane did drop hers, but caught it before it hit the ground as if she was some kind of hot-shot martial artist. Yuka managed to get a piece of rice up her nose. Daisuke and Saiyuri had the good fortune to not have opened their lunch boxes yet in the first place.

“Damn it Shampoo, you wouldn’t talk at school,” Ranma scolded. Shampoo put both her paws on her mouth in shamed shock. “Guys, I’d _really_ appreciate it if you didn’t blab about this.”

“Can do!” Sayuri assured her while Yuki gave a stern salute.

“Dude, Dai?” Hiroshi softly spoke after a few seconds to process the latest reveal.

“Yeah?”

“I thought talking cats were supposed to only show up in Azabu-Jūban?”

Daisuke nodded. “Hiroshi? If Ranma ever does a magical girl transformation?”

“Yeah, Dai?”

“I want a front row seat.”

The awkward silence was palpable. Yuka gave Daisuke a stern glare of the kind that said “stop being so typical”.

“I don’t get it,” Ranma admitted after another few seconds.

“You don’t have to,” Akane reassured the confused redhead. “If you ever do a superhero transformation, it’d be more like this.” She stood up straight and did a perfect Kamen Rider 1 transform gesture. As the others softly applauded, Akane decided against showing what Daisuke had in mind. “What Daisuke was talking about involves something a little more twirly and maybe-naked.”

“Don’t forget the too-short skirts!” Daisuke helpfully added.

“Short skirts good fo’ fyting,” Shampoo argued. “Good mobilichy _an’_ distracshin.”

“You know what Shampoo-chan?” Yuka said, nodding at Akane and Sayuri, “that’s actually not a bad point. Ranma, you’re a big-shot fighty type, right? Maybe you should consider it.”

Daisuke looked a bit red in the face. Ranma on the other hand seemed almost tempted by the idea.

“But do it for what Shampoo said, Ranma-chan,” Saiyuri argued. “ _Not_ for this pervert’s sake.”

“Can’t believe you got over the talking cat so easily,” Akane remarked. Then _she_ considered Ranma in a short skirt and turned a little red in the cheeks.

“I’m not,” Hiroshi admitted. “I’ve just got too much on the brain to care about it.” He looked at something behind Akane. “And speaking of guys who like short skirts, we’ve got company coming.”

Indeed, approaching the tree was none other than Tatewaki Kuno, seventeen years old.

Ranma sighed.

“Saotome,” Kuno started, “we have need to discuss certain matters, but there is no more time left now. I humbly request you meet me at the track after school.”

Before Ranma could respond, Kuno already turned around and left. The bell rang not long after.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Tendō dojo, Genma and Sōun sat at the latter’s shōgi table.

“You know, Tendō-kun, it’s really a shame about the whole marriage thing,” Genma said he pondered if he should cheat or make a legitimate play.

“Isn’t it, Saotome-kun?” Sōun agreed as he watched his friend move his bishop. “Still, it’s not _all_ lost.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well… I don’t know if she knows I know, but my dear Akane… well, she’s never really been into boys, if you know what I mean.”

“Really now? That explains the teasing between her and the boy, I’d think.”

“Not quite, Saotome-kun,” Sōun disagreed as he moved one of his lances. “She’s always been a bit in denial about it, to the point of trying to woo the local chiropractor. Which, of course, didn’t work out since the poor guy is out of her age bracket… and he fawns over Kasumi.”

“I think I see your point. But how does that solve the marriage issue?”

“It doesn’t,” Sōun blithely admitted, then shuffled some pieces around when Genma was confused and distracted. “But it _does_ mean the dojo’s future can be assured.”

“I don’t follow, Tendō-kun… and wasn’t that one piece…?”

“Well you see, Saotome-kun, I have _three_ daughters. Kasumi could get any man she’d wish. Let’s face it, so can Nabiki.”

“Thank you, father,” Kasumi sang as she passed.

“I can see Nabiki and Akane work together here. Nabiki doesn’t need to actually fight to _own_ the dojo or even maintain it, and Akane can be the master. Add in Ranma and whoever catches Nabiki’s eye and we’re set, Saotome-kun!”

The fathers laughed for a good few seconds, then went out for drinks.

* * *

“I’ll be at the gate,” Akane indicated as she took her book bag and Ranma’s, including Shampoo. “You enjoy your meeting.”

Ranma scoffed. “Aw, it’s not like you gotta wait for me, ‘Kane.”

“If it’s all the same, I don’t trust the guy. I’m not leaving you alone with him. At least, not _that_ alone.”

“A’ight then.” Ranma shrugged and turned to the track field. “I’m just glad I got my outfit back. Now, let’s get this shitshow over with.”

It didn’t take long before Tatewaki Kuno made his appearance. Ranma was only standing in the track field for all of two minutes when she spotted him coming directly her way.

“Upperclassman,” Ranma said, trying to make it sound at least a little respectful.

“Saotome,” Kuno started off with his usual high-and-mighty tone. “I would wish to offer my most sincere apologies for my earlier words.”

“Hmhm?”

“It was wrong of me to presume… I shall make no excuse of it, but your mode of dress had convinced me of an untruth, and I falsely presumed you to be what you are clearly not.”

“Oh,” Ranma interrupted. “You mean with the posture and the baggy shirt?” She thought back to that morning and copied her earlier pose. “Like this?”

“Exactly like that. It is a posture and dress that does a disservice to your womanly qualities.”

Ranma considered those words. Kuno sounded more than a bit sexist, but he could have a point. Just for the sake of experiment, Ranma grabbed the bottom of her shirt, pulled it tight, and tucked it into her pants. “How’s this? Still think I’m a fag?”

“Your words wound me, Ranma Saotome,” Kuno replied. “But I agree that this is a marked improvement. Again, it was wrong of me.”

“Good.” Ranma pulled the bottom of her shirt back out, ruining the effect. Kuno’s disapproval was subtle on his otherwise stoic face, but present. “Something to keep in mind, then. Anything else or…?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. There is in fact something else I must say to you.”

Ranma couldn’t help but notice Kuno had something in his hands, hiding it behind his back.

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“Ranma Saotome… my pig-tailed tigress…”

“What’d you say?”

Kuno suddenly threw the hidden object at Ranma, who caught it on instinct.

“… I love you.”

With those words, Tatewaki Kuno turned around and left, leaving Ranma to fall to her knees in shock while holding a bouquet of roses.

“Holy crap I can’t believe he said that,” Akane whispered as she retrieved her fallen friend.

* * *

Ranma stood in a grassy field, the wind blowing in his hair and whipping around his ponytail, when Kuno approached.

“Ranma Saotome. I love you.”

“Dude, open your eyes,” Ranma scoffed. “I’m a man.”

“Ranma Saotome. I love you.”

“What part of ‘I’m a— wait, what?” Ranma started to say, but caught note of the words’ pitch being off. Another three Kunos appeared, cutting off Ranma’s escape.

“Ranma Saotome,” they spoke as one. “I love you.”

“No… go away,” Ranma called out as she fought not to cower at the sight.

“Ranma Saotome.”

“Stop it! Don’t say it!” the distraught girl cried.

“I love you.”

“Shut up! I don’t fall for guys, a’ight! _I am a man!_ ” she shouted, but it was ever harder to believe it.

It was difficult to believe when it first started, that fateful day in China. Spending time awake as a newly-changed girl wasn’t _that_ hard once she’d gotten over the shock. But then night had fallen and the dreams started, ranging from the strange to the outright nightmarish, from visions of her almost-forgotten mother trying to take her head off to raising a family with her old friend Hibiki.

Nobody had ever told her that they loved her. Not in that sense of the word.

And the simple fact that Tatewaki Kuno had been the first to say it?

It chilled Ranma Saotome to the bone.

She got up, regulated her breathing, and aired her sweat-soaked tank top. “Jeez, as if I needed more reasons to hate the guy.”


	4. Chúfáng Tánhuà

Ranma sighed as she made her way down to the kitchen in need of a glass of cold water. Working entirely in the dark of night without any thought of turning on the kitchen’s light, she reached for a glass and held it under the tap.

To Ranma’s credit, she didn’t drop the glass when she turned around to see Shampoo’s eyes shining brightly, reflecting what little ambient illumination was there.

“Shampoo, why’re you here?” Ranma asked as she watched the cat hop onto the counter.

“Saw you get up an’ leave,” she answered, then worked the faucet knob to lap up a steady trickle of water.

When Shampoo was done, Ranma reached over to twist it back to the 'closed’ position for her. “Yeah, so?”

“Wanna talk 'boud it?”

Ranma stood and considered Shampoo’s offer, leaning against the counter. “I guess… You followed along with what went down with Kuno, right?”

“Mosely,” Shampoo admitted.

“I’ve been having these dreams lately, since like three or four weeks ago. I’d be my old, male self and I’d turn out to be… I dunno, dressed like a girl. I’d protest it, then see my reflection or something and it turns out I _am_ a girl all of a sudden. All sorts of reactions. Then the basics of the dreams started changing a little more every so often.”

“Wha change?” Shampoo asked as she sat next to Ranma, still on the counter.

“At first I didn’t scream or nuffin’, at seeing my girl form reflection. Then I’d start the dream already a girl or I’d be a guy and clearly not feeling okay about it, and when I’d see myself, as a girl, I’d be… I dunno, happier? More content. I think it’s getting more frequent.”

Shampoo nuzzled into Ranma’s side for comfort. “But tonight…?”

“Completely new one. Kuno was there.”

“Mrow.”

“I know, right? He kept saying those words, 'I l’.., I can’t even say it, it’s worse than that time I dreamed I married my old friend from school and bore his kids. So yeah. You can understand, maybe, that this is a particularly horrible night to have a curse.”

“Myeah,” the warrior cat agreed. “Got kinda same thing, wi’ dreams.”

“Yeah? How’s that?”

“Use to dream of… us, togeder, me hyuman an’ you man. Lovers, friens, married couple…”

“That could’ve been nice, I guess. Any of those,” Ranma agreed half-heartedly. Certainly, if circumstances were different, if Ranma hadn’t gotten cursed to be a girl. If _he_ had walked into the village and beaten Shampoo in the competition, they probably _would_ be married already. Genma might’ve complained, he might even try to take Ranma away and bring him to the Tendō family so he could marry one of the sisters. But those weren’t the circumstances. She was a girl, Shampoo was a cat, and Shampoo’s great-grandmother made her Ranma’s responsibility. Which was fair, she’d suppose, being that Shampoo was only in that situation because of her.

“No happen now tho,” Shampoo sighed. “Shānpū just pet now.”

“Who said you can’t be a friend?” Ranma asked in support.

“Dreams do. Like Ranma dream of being happy wife, Shānpū dream of… well…”

“Being someone’s pet cat?”

Shampoo nodded. “No warrior, no marshal arts… no honor, no tribe. Just lay ‘round, sleep, an’ get pet. And Shānpū…” She paused for a full-body shiver. “Shānpū _liked_ it.”

“So. I’m afraid of losin’ my manliness… and you your humanity?”

Just when Shampoo nodded again, the light went on to reveal Akane in the doorway, hand on the light switch.

“‘Kane, what’s up?” Ranma greeted.

Akane stifled a yawn. “Turns out your voices carry better than you’d think. Especially Shampoo’s.”

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that,” Ranma apologized with a quick bow, cutely mirrored by the cat on the counter. “How much’d you hear?”

“Hardly anything I could understand, your voices don’t carry _that_ well,” Akane admitted. “Nabiki and Kasumi are probably wide awake too by now, but daddy might still sleep through all this. But yeah, all I got was something about Shampoo’s humanity. So what’s this all about?”

Ranma opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. She wasn’t sure if she trusted Akane enough to tell her the whole story. She glanced to her tiny friend and exchanged a determined look. Shampoo nodded at Ranma, Ranma returned the nod. They both faced Akane.

This was something their pride normally wouldn’t let them do.

At the same time, the girl and cat proclaimed, “We’re afraid.”

“Afraid?” Akane asked to confirm, knowing full well how serious an admission that must’ve been, even if she wasn’t quite conscious of it.

“I’m afraid a’ losing my masculinity. Pops raised me to be a man among men, and I was fully prepared to lose my very life in pursuit of the Art… but not my _manhood_. Now, I’m stuck like this, practically a head shorter than I used ta be, it took practically until we got back in Japan ‘fore I found ma center of balance again, and I… I keep having these dreams of bein’ a…” She paused to shift her voice into a ditzy mockery. “A happy married wife with a strong handsome husband and two or three _daaarling_ children~”

Shampoo retched. Akane seemed a little green in the face herself.

“Don’t _ever_ do that again, please.”

“Gladly,” Ranma agreed in her normal tone. Well, her new normal. She turned her head towards Shampoo. “You wanna tell her or should I?”

Shampoo shrugged. “Meh, is basically same thing. Am _fierce Mewjiézú warrior_ , not lazy pet with mouth full of kibble!”

Ranma held back a giggle. “You might want to practice your speech some more.” At Shampoo’s confused look, she continued. “You said mew-cheezu.”

Shampoo covered her eyes with her paws and dove into the sink with a cry of shame.

“Don’t worry, Shampoo. I get it. It’s hard enough for a cat to talk at all so nobody would mind if ya mess up.”

“What’d she mean to say?” Akane asked.

“Th’ name of her tribe. Nyuchiétsu I think?” Ranma attempted, butchering the name only slightly less than the actual Chinese warrior had. “I call ‘em _Joketsuzoku_.”

Akane pondered the words. “ _Joketsu_ … yeah, I can see how she’d be a ‘fierce warrior’ then.”

“Best in the village ‘til I came ‘round,” Ranma boast-bragged as she held one of Shampoo’s paws up like she’d just won a match.

“So… if you two are so afraid of losing what you were,” Akane pondered out loud, “why not… y’know, hold on tight to what’s left and don’t let go?” She clenched a fist. “You joked about dykes before, right? You take what manhood you got left and hold on tight!”

“Do we nyot do phrasing anymore?”

Ignoring Shampoo’s interruption, Akane continued, shaking that fist in dramatic but inspiring defiance. “Sure, you’re cute and small, but you can still be the butchest cute martial artist!”

“Did you say bitchiest?” Ranma confirmed.

“No, butchest. Be as manly as you want or can, and only play up how cute you are when _you_ want to!” Akane clarified as her knuckles turned a bit white.

“I’m not sure you used that word right but _fuck yeah!_ No schoolgirl skirts for Ranma Motherfucking Saotome!” Ranma agreed as she held up her own clenched fist and bonked it against Akane’s.

“And _you_ , Shampoo…”

“Myeah?” Shampoo acknowledged as she got out of the sink.

“How’d it feel to wear clothes when you were in school earlier?”

Shampoo stopped to consider. “Comfy. Safe, maybe.”

“And you want to be the fierce warrior you used to be?”

“O’couse!”

“Then tomorrow, no, _today_ we go see Kasumi about some kitty-sized outfits and you’ll… You’re gonna be a _proud and fierce Mewcheezu warrior!_ ”

“Ah jeez, ‘Kane. Way to be inspiring,” Ranma chuckled.

* * *

True to form, the next school day saw the two Tendō Sisters walk to school accompanied by a short figure who was as cute as she was imposing; Ranma Saotome, former Man among Men, still dressed in her usual Chinese silks, her gait clearly distinct from that of the girls walking next to her.

The fact she was actually _walking on the street_ instead of running on fences was of course all planned by Nabiki after she was informed of the kitchen talk. She’d suggested it as a way to make an impression on Furinkan High as a whole.

Shampoo was _not_ riding in Ranma’s bookbag, as she stayed home to practice her moves.

Ranma stood back to watch Akane beat up the boys, pretending she timed the slaughter with a stopwatch. She waded through them to catch up, until Kuno stepped up to bat.

“Beauteous Akane Tendō. My pigtailed tigress. Surely today shall be the day I shall defeat you both,” the swordsman recited, “and we shall _date_.”

“He’s actually serious about that, ain’t he?” Ranma stage-whispered at Akane.

“As if. You want this?” Akane offered. Smiling, Ranma came forth.

Nabiki had come first, so Ranma had to make do with a toaster.

“Upperclassman,” Ranma sang with her fake cutesy voice, a matching expression on her face.

“My pigtailed—” Kuno tried to reply before Ranma dropped the act harder than a dated reference.

“Do I _look_ like I’d let a dick anywhere near me, jackass?”

“Tis but a date, my—”

“And we all know what comes _after_ ,” Ranma retorted, figuring that explaining she’d meant that Kuno himself was a dick would be superfluous.

She didn’t even know the meaning of the word anyway.

The idea of having sex, of “making love” in the _modern_ sense, had temporarily robbed Kuno of his motor functions at any rate, so Ranma and Akane were free to move past him.

“Guess you weren’t _quite_ wrong about me bein’ a fag though~”

The rest of the school day went surprisingly smooth.

* * *

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Furinkan High?”

The confused student pointed at the sign on the gate he’d just walked through.

“Oh… Thank you.”


	5. Māo de Fùqīn

“What’s eating you, Ranma? After a school day like that, you’d think there’d be nothing to bother you.”

Akane certainly wasn’t wrong to ask, as far as she knew, watching her new friend walk on the top of the fence as usual. The school day _had_ gone remarkably well — Ranma had quickly built up the reputation she wanted, or at the very least gotten quite far with it, and Akane couldn’t think of any reason why Ranma seemed so oddly lost in thought.

“Hah? Oh, nothing. Just this one thing that happened,” Ranma replied, shaking off her funk. “Something doesn’t quite add up.”

“Are you going to share with the rest of class?” Akane joked.

“Oh okay, I guess I _could_ tell you. It’s what this one guy told me just after lunch.” Ranma started and jumped off the fence to properly communicate the story. Akane couldn’t help but visibly wince as she saw Ranma’s ample talent nearly smack her in the face. Some day, she or Kasumi would talk Ranma into getting some proper support. “So this guy comes up t’me and tells me he ran into this mysterious traveler in front of the school gate.”

“Mysterious traveler? What makes a traveler mysterious?”

“Well, he said they had this bigass cloak on, and the goggles. Like a desert wanderer a’ some sort.”

“Huh. I guess Furinkan takes all sorts of weirdos.”

“I’m gonna try and not take that personally. Anyway, this traveler asked Tsukasa — I _just_ remembered his name — where, and get this, where Furinkan High is,” Ranma continued, adding the same incredulous emphasis the other student had used.

“Even though they were standing right at the gate?”

“It gets better! He pointed at the gate, straight line to the school, the traveler thanked him, and _went straight the other way!_ ”

Akane nearly tripped in surprise. “That’s… that has to be on purpose.”

“You’d think so. Go the other way and come back later or some such? That’d make sense. But very little in at _least_ my life makes sense. And here’s where it gets interesting to me: y’remember when Shampoo and I told ya about our nightmares and I mentioned that old friend from school? Well, friendly rival more like I guess ya could call it?”

“Ah, rivalry! Something unsurprising to balance it out.”

“Har har. Anyway, Ryōga Hibiki was his name, and he was absolute _shit_ at following directions, or making his way around. He was the kind that’d get lost in his own house.”

“Oh, that sounds rough.”

“Yeah, I used to walk him home after school, else he’d not even _get_ there. Anyway, I heard the guy tell me about this mysterious traveler, and I _immediately_ thought ‘hey, he must be talkin’ about Ryōga. Ain’t nobody else _that_ dumb.’ But it’s the strangest thing.”

“Well?”

“The way Tsukasa told it, that mysterious traveler was not a guy. He kept using feminine pronouns to describe this person. And I may not know Tsukasa specifically very well, but by my count the only Furinkan student who’s ever shown trouble telling boys from girls is Kuno.”

“Well, you didn’t make it easy for anyone really,” Akane quipped, then stopped dead in her tracks. “You don’t think…”

“I dunno _what_ to think. If it _was_ Ryōga, he’ll probably appear sooner or later. Likely later, considering .”

As the pair went on home, just after they passed the clinic, they ran into a middle-aged man puzzling over a map at the roadside, a bag at his feet. He was dressed in a sharp Chinese suit, black in color, with a matching cap and big round glasses, and had some clearly well-maintained facial hair.

“Excuse me, sir?” Akane said as she approached the man, “can we help you?”

The man looked up from his map, paused to process the offer, and replied in a fairly noticeable accent, “Yes, please. I looking for, ah… _Tiāndào wǔguǎn_. _Dào_ …jo? I say right?”

“Tendō Dojo, sir?” Akane confirmed while Ranma stood back to study this new person.

“Yes, yes. Is what I say, _Tiāndào_! You know where I find?”

“I’m Akane Tendō, sir. I _live_ there. Just follow us.”

“Ah, _xièxiè_ … thank you.”

The pair continued on their way, followed at a respectable distance by the Chinese man.

“Y’sure ‘bout leadin’ this old guy to your house, ‘Kane?” Ranma asked with an undertone of worry. “We don’t even know who he is.”

“Unless you know of a way to hide ill intent, I think he’s just a guy with an interest in Anything Goes. From China.”

“I can think of a way or two, but I think I’ll trust your judgement,” Ranma conceded.

“Hey, worst comes to pass, I’m sure you could defend me.”

* * *

Despite Ranma’s misgivings, they got to the Tendō dojo without incident. “Well, here we are,” Akane indicated to their follower. “Please wait, sir, so nobody gets surprised or anything.”

The man nodded and stood there, just inside the gate.

“Daddy? We’re home!” Akane called out.

“With a visitor,” Ranma added.

Sōun looked up from his newspaper. “Who is it?”

“Chinese guy, forgot to ask his name. Was lookin’ for the dojo.”

“Really now?” Sōun asked nobody in particular as he put down the newspaper. “Well, show him in!”

Ranma beckoned the visitor, who hefted his bag and entered the room proper. “ _Nǐ hǎo_ , master _Tiān_ —Tendō,” he greeted with a respectful bow. “Please, allow to introduce myself. Sāchè, from _Nǚjié zú_. Come here to relieve worry for my daughter.”

“You must be referring to Shampoo,” Sōun quickly picked up.

At the door, Ranma finally realized who this old man was. It made her feel a little dumb, that she’d treated this harmless man so coldly on the whole way home without even bothering to ask.

“Shānpū, yes. Not seen her since day of tournament, only know what happen from what _zǔmǔ_ tell me.”

Internally, Mr. Sāchè still wasn’t quite over never having gotten the chance to say goodbye to his little girl, and though Sāchè would absolutely never dare say it, even in a whisper, he had to admit to himself that deep inside he resented his grandmother a little for just giving his daughter away to this outsider, even if he could understand why she’d done so.

“I believe she’s out in the backyard.” Sōun cleared his throat with a cough, took a deep breath, and called out Shampoo’s name. Not ten seconds later, Ranma nearly got bowled over by a purple blur that resolved into a little cat in a tiny training _gi_ , also purple, sitting on the table. A fair armload of little wood pieces behind her tracked a line back to the yard, as the little cat had until that moment been hard at work retraining herself and had already graduated from exploding soft, then harder fruit to pulverizing wooden boards.

“Shānpū, _wǒ de nǚ'ér?_ ” Sāchè asked, fiddling with his beard. “ _Nà zhēn de shì nǐ ma?_ ”

“ _Shì de, bàba_ ,” Shampoo replied softly, only slightly affected. Sāchè held out his arms. Shampoo carefully jumped into her father’s embrace. Father and cat-daughter hugged about as long as any could’ve expected, until Sāchè put her back down on the table and stood up.

“I have seen enough. _Luànmǎ_ ,” he called out to the girl in the doorway trying to remain stoic.

“Mister Sachet?”

“I am certain _zǔmǔ_ said already, and I am happy with what I see, but as Shānpū’s father I must repeat. Treat my daughter well, as you have clearly done so far.”

The implicit threat of fatherly retribution was clear enough. His was the kind of look Sōun gave off whenever Kasumi’s well-being was the least bit threatened. That this didn’t happen often was all but a testament to how effective a stern fatherly scowl could be. 

“Where you go now, _bàba_?” Shampoo asked as her father hefted his bag. His expression softened as he turned to answer his daughter.

“I was thinking… your _bàba_ is good cook, yes? Maybe start restaurant in area. Chinese food always popular choice. Will be around, you and friends can visit.”

“Wait, don’t you need a license and such to open a restaurant?” Akane whispered at Ranma.

“I’unno. If ya really wanna know, ask Nabiki.”

“Yeah, I figure if anyone would know about running a business…”

“Or a racket, right?”

Shampoo on the other paw only nodded at the idea. “An’ _māmā_?” she asked, pulling on Sāchè’s pants leg. Sōun hid behind the newspaper trying to hide his reaction to how cute all that looked.

“... Your _māmā_ is as she always is.”

“Will she come too?”

“Afraid not, Shānpū. With our champion gone, village can not afford to lose more warriors.”

Shampoo was just about ready to cry at the thought she’d not see her mother again, but knew that such were the ways of the Joketsuzoku.

* * *

That same evening, just after dinner, Ranma laid on her back in the grass of the yard, next to the koi pond, with Shampoo curled up on her stomach.

“Gotta admit, Shampoo. If your old man does open a restaurant, he’s set to make a killin’. Those were some _good_ noodles.”

“Ye, an’ Kasumi no’ haveta raise finger,” Shampoo agreed, her tiny belly equally full of quality home cooking.

Neither of them noticed the figure on the roof until said figure cast a threatening shadow over them. A mere second later, the figure jumped down at them, wielding a large bamboo umbrella pointed right at the prone tomboyish girl.

“ _RANMA SAOTOME, PREPARE TO DIE!”_


	6. Yěshēng Nǚhái

Ranma and Shampoo could’ve been skewered or worse if their attacker hadn’t yelled at them. As it was, Ranma rolled away as Shampoo jumped to the other side, leaving their assailant to dig a nasty divot into the lawn and spray dirt everywhere.

“Woah, watch it buddy!” Ranma sputtered as she got back on her feet.

“I’m not your buddy, pal,” the tall newcomer retorted. Now that nobody made any quick movements said person was revealed to be a somewhat tall young girl with short greenish hair held up with a yellow-and-black patterned bandanna. She wore a ragged outfit of browns and faded yellows, and carried a large backpack upon which she balanced her weighted umbrella. “Not since you turned my life into a living hell!”

Ranma stood in thought for several seconds, the look of confusion and lack of recognition clear enough to hold back even her opponent. “Wait… you couldn’t be… Ryōga?” she asked when it dawned on her that she only knew the one person who wore bandannas like that one. “Ryōga Hibiki? You’re… how’d that happen?”

“Same way you did, coward.”

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. You followed me to China?”

“After you ran from our challenge. Then _this_ happened and my life got infinitely worse than it already was.”

“Okay, hol’ on, hol’ on. Ignoring for a sec how ya _got_ there, what happened?” Ranma pushed. Meanwhile, Shampoo collected bits of grass and dirt and pushed them back into the hole.

“Very well. I might as well tell you before I break you,” Ryōga agreed, taking off his backpack and setting it down on the grass with a loud rattle. “I found myself on a mountain path overlooking these springs when I spotted a redheaded girl — you, I’d learn later — being chased by another, heavily armed girl. She threw something at you, you knocked it away, and just barely missed my head. I took a step back, the path crumbled, and I fell.”

“Huh, imagine the chances. Falling off a mountain path right into the Spring of Immersed G—wait, isn’t that spring on the _other side_ of the grounds?”

“It is. I didn’t fall straight in. Actually I _missed_ the springs entirely and hit the ground. Head first so I was somewhat dazed. Didn’t fall over until then.”

Ranma tsk-ed. “Impressive though. I figure you didn’t like the result much.”

“ _The hell I didn’t!_ The things I had to endure, you can’t _imagine!_ ” Ryōga cried out. “The shock alone, maybe, but try and figure out how this body even _works_ when you’re alone! I’m at least half a head taller, my center of balance was shot to hell, my chest hurts all the time and _oh right, my freaking dick is gone!_ ”

“...yeah, I was _going_ to suggest you get a bra but then I realized it’s you,” Ranma muttered.

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Ryōga glowered.

“Where would you get one that fits you and your budget?” Ranma replied, leaving “how would you find the undy store anyway” unspoken.

“Okay, point. But the worst has to be all these times since then that older men tried to… have their way with me.”

“Woah, what?”

“I would’ve kicked their asses no problem but every time I’d just… shut down thinking I’m too _weak_ to defend myself until I’d remember I can still wield my umbrella so I must still be strong. By then they’d already have my shirt torn open though, so you can see how much of a freaking hassle that leaves me with.”

Indeed, there were several roughly-sewn fixes visible on Ryōga’s shirt.

“They didn’t actually _manage_ , right?” Ranma asked with careful concern.

“Feh. Still not a pleasant experience.”

Ranma stopped to consider the journey home. She too had encountered some unsavory types, but she was clearly dressed for a fight and so was the imposing bulky man always near her who called himself her father and called her “boy”. The same father who, in his own inimitable way, cared for his child, especially after the events in Jusenkyō, and as such did his best to support her where the only natural-born female of the group could not. Because she was a cat.

“And all of that,” Ryōga interrupted with an angry finger point, “because _you_ ran out on our duel!”

“Hey! I waited right there where we agreed on for _three days_ , a’ight?” Ranma retorted with wounded pride. “No breaks, just me standing in place in an empty lot for three days and nights, waiting for you to find your way down a single block.”

“And when I got there on the fourth day, you’d ran!” Ryōga cried out as he suddenly struck at Ranma’s head, who of course dodged.

“I didn’t _run_ , dipshit,” Ranma reiterated, dancing around Ryōga’s strikes. “Pops came by every day to talk me into leaving to China and _three times in a row_ I told him no, honor wouldn’t let me leave until we’d fought! Fourth day, he didn’t ask. Just knocked me out right there. I didn’t wake up until we were at the coast!”

Ryōga slowed down to consider what he’d heard, letting Ranma get to a safer distance.

“So yeah, I’m sorry to hear your post-curse experiences weren’t as smooth as mine, Ryō, but you can’t blame any of this shit on me! So calm your tits and see me about a proper duel _later_. And besides...”

“What?”

Ranma pointed at the cat sitting on the garden wall, who jumped off and sat down to look at the visitor. “At least you’re still _human_.”

Ryōga turned to look at Shampoo, shocked at the realization that this little kitty was the warrior who was chasing Ranma back then, and that he too might’ve been like that. He could’ve been a cat too, or a duck, or maybe even a little piggy. It was a moment of distraction that Ranma happily took advantage of as she suddenly rushed up to her rival and kicked him hard enough to launch him over the wall. She quickly followed this up with his backpack, and if the noise from the other side was any indication she’d hit him.

“Think she... he come back?” Shampoo asked.

“Sure… when pigs fly,” Ranma answered in a near-whisper, then sighed. “Y’know, that might’ve been a cheap shot at the end, but with any luck he’ll be too disoriented to get back here. And besides, this was hardly a proper duel.”

* * *

That night, as Akane was about halfway asleep in her bed, someone softly knocked on her door. “Come in,” she muttered, wondering who it could be at that hour. Slowly, the door opened to reveal a remarkably timid-looking Ranma, in her shorts and (thankfully) shirt. “Ranma?”

“Hey,” Ranma whispered. “Can’t sleep. D’ya think I could…?”

“Can’t… What’s wrong, Ranma?”

“Got another… nightmare,” the redhead admitted softly. At Akane’s surprised face she elaborated, “Thought the whole _thing_ would help but meeting Ryōga again and learning how bad he’s had it kinda brought it back. And Pops’ snoring when he’s drunk doesn’t help.”

“So…”

“Can I… please, ah…”

Akane sighed and held up the end of her blanket. “Sure, get in here. No funny business?”

“Nah, no funny business,” Ranma chuckled as she climbed into Akane’s bed. “Not nearly that far yet.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Akane mumbled as she pulled her friend closer into a loose hug. “Too late to care. G’night, Ranma.”

“Night, ‘Kane.”

Meanwhile and slightly before then, Ryōga had indeed somehow made his way back onto the grounds. He carefully got up to the first floor and quickly checked each window, looking for his rival. First window, he quickly dipped out of view again, finding Kasumi brushing her hair. Luckily, even though she was sitting in front of a mirror facing away from the window, she had her eyes closed. Next window Ryōga again quickly moved on; it was Nabiki’s room, with her on her bed, reading a manga before she’d go to sleep. It wasn’t until the third window that he found his target, and instantly regretted the plan.

Ranma and Akane had, by then, ended up in a spooning position. Ranma’s shirt rode up, revealing one of Akane’s hands on Ranma’s ample bosom.

Also, Shampoo had joined them some time earlier and was curled up at their feet.

Surely the next morning would be a sight to behold for fans of slapstick rom-com, but to Ryōga _this_ already was one for hormonal teenagers who liked the sight of hot girls and/or had a macho male self-image.

So naturally, Ryōga fell to the ground, lightly bleeding from the nose, and stumbled away again.

* * *

After a bit of awkwardness when Kasumi found her little sister and her red-haired friend cuddling like that in the morning, and Ranma admitting she worried a bit about Ryōga, the rest of the week seemed to go reasonably well. Akane actually invited Ranma to sleep in her room, not mentioning the latter’s nightmares, and they quite regularly found themselves in compromising positions in the morning.

Kasumi had quickly accepted this as a fact of life.

Nabiki considered it a photographic goldmine, but was still on the fence deciding if it was worth the risk to exploit. A risk both to her physical wellbeing, and to her familial relationships.

Their father remained his stoic self all week. Sōun had accepted their budding relationship even before it had well and truly started, after all. Even as traditional as he liked to appear, he did love all three of his daughters and wanted nothing more than their happiness in life.

Genma also accepted it, but with somewhat more reluctance than his old friend. He _wanted_ to be supportive to his son-turned-daughter, yet he couldn’t help but refer to Ranma as “boy”, even if his tone implied it was but a nickname. Still, the schools could be united, according to his old friend’s theory. All they really needed was for Nabiki to get on board as the actual owner of the dojo. Perhaps she should get a bit of training for legitimacy, and Genma was all too happy to provide.

Shampoo, on the other hand… When she wasn’t practicing her art, trying to get over the speech impediment that came with her form, or studying along with Ranma in class (even if Ranma would often doze off), she would often catch herself gazing at the red-haired girl, thinking back to her old life before they’d met, and to her own nightmares.

She would catch herself thinking of Ranma Saotome as her _àirén_.

And that tore her little kitty heart apart.


	7. Shíjǐn Shāo

After doing whatever a ranma might do around town, Ranma returned to find Kasumi waiting for her in the entrance hall, holding a paper-wrapped okonomiyaki, still warm.

“Pops got a challenge letter?”

“Yes,” Kasumi confirmed, “and a very strange one at that.”

Indeed, the okonomiyaki had a challenge clearly written on it in sauce.

“Who would do such a thing?”

Almost immediately, Ranma put her shoes back on and ran off again, to the empty lot specified in the strange challenge, taking the medium with her to eat on the way.

Kasumi stood for a moment in thought. “Wouldn’t Shampoo usually be with her?”

When she was almost at the lot, Ranma ran into Akane carrying a half-conscious Genma back with her. “Hey, ‘Kane? What happened?”

“I’m not really sure, actually. I was barely there in time to catch the start, but it was over in seconds,” Akane said as she put down the bulky man down and propped him against a wall. “You’re an only child, right?”

“By my count, yeah.”

“There was this masked boy with a giant cooking spatula…”

* * *

_“It’s been a long time, Genma Saotome.”_

_“Hmm? Have we met before?”_

_“Don’t pretend that you don’t me, the child you left behind!”_

_“Ukyō? Forgive me! I was poor! I could barely feed Ranma and myself!”_

* * *

“So you can see how that’d sound like… wait, aren’t you shocked?”

Indeed, Ranma didn’t seem to impressed. “Nah, Ah knew the ol’ bastard had it in ‘em.”

“Whoever said I have illegitimate children?” Genma groggily argued.

“Really? Then what’d Ukyō mean?” Akane asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it. If you thought that was shocking, the truth would be much worse.”

“Eh, f’geddit. School day tomorrow, better get home.”

* * *

In Ranma’s room, Shampoo sat in thought, staring out the window.

_When did I start to think of Ranma like this? She’s good to me, but…_

_Nothing could come of it. In my dreams, we’re human. Wife and husband. Not like we are now. If she was the only one cursed, I guess I could be… flexible._

_But that’s not an option now. I really should stop fantasizing about this, it hurts._

* * *

“Class, I’d like to introduce a new student,” the teacher said as Ukyō, dressed in a boy’s uniform but still with the giant spatula, prepared a portable stove.

“Ukyō Kuonji, pleasure to make your acquaintance y’all,” the new kid said as he quickly whipped up an okonomiyaki and drew a saucy smile on it.

When Ukyō said his name, Ranma and Akane immediately looked at each other in shock. Moreso when Ukyō called out to the redhead and tossed the still-hot pancake right into Ranma’s reflexively-raised hand. The sight of the smiling sauce face brought it all back to her.

“Now I got it! You’re Ucchan, from the cart!” Ranma said as she bounded out of her chair and towards the front of the classroom, blindly dodging the sharpened spatulas that Ukyō hurled at her.

“You were childhood friends?” Akane called out behind her.

“Yeah, yeah. For a while anyway, while Pops and I were trainin’. For a good while we hung out ‘round Ucchan’s dad’s cart, and every morning I’d be there to challenge Ucchan for a free okonomiyaki. Fun times. Sad when we left though.”

“How dare you,” Ukyō exclaimed trying to hit Ranma with the giant spatula.

“What? What’re you so mad about?”

“Think back to the day you left, Ranma, and think hard.”

So Ranma did, scratching her hair, remembering exactly what you already know. She still a black-haired boy, sitting on the cart, little Ukyō running after her as Genma pulled the cart and ran like hell.

“Y’know, come ta think of it, why were _we_ travelin’ on _your_ cart?”

“You were supposed to take me with you, you jerk! Not just the cart! You broke your promise and left me behind,” Ukyō swore, fighting back tears.

“But why would ya wanna come with my stupid old man when you got a perfectly good dad yerself?”

“You really don’t know, do you, Ranma?” Ukyō muttered, cooking up another pancake which was quickly flung into Ranma’s face with a loud _splap_. “I have a special recipe in mind for you, Ranma,” Ukyō proclaimed as he walked out the door. “Prepare yourself!”

* * *

Carrying her outfit in a cat-sized backpack, Shampoo quickly made her way to where _bàba_ said he was setting up his restaurant.

“Ah, Shānpū,” Sachet called out as he spotted his daughter come in. “What brings you here?”

“I have a big problem, daddy.”

“Well,” the old man said as he picked Shampoo up and set her down on what was soon to be the kitchen counter, then set a smaller than usual cup of tea next to her. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

* * *

What happened next was a prime demonstration of how strange martial arts could be. Ukyō’s challenge involved a ring with what was soon revealed to be an oversized grill along the edge, searing hot, and various food ingredients gone potentially lethal.

In the explody sense, not the poisonous sense.

Every time Ranma called Ukyō a man or said anything like it, her opponent got angrier. This was of course part and parcel of Ranma’s family style, Saotome-school Anything Goes. The only problem was, she wasn’t _trying_ to rile Ukyō up, and the aggressive reactions pissed _her_ off in turn. When Ukyō tried to bind Ranma in noodles, the redheaded fighter broke free and returned the attack, slinging Ukyō far out of the ring.

“Come on, ya sissy! Fight like a man,” Ranma called out as she chased her target down over the school grounds, completely unaware of the irony behind that statement. Properly angered, Ukyō took a swing with the giant spatula, only to have it caught by Ranma, who simultaneously kicked her opponent square in the stomach. Ukyō released the handle of the spatula, allowing Ranma to take a swipe in return, cutting Ukyō’s shirt.

“I try to be _nice_ to you, and what do you do,” Ranma said through clenched teeth as she bent the spatula. “You’ve had yer fun on that grill… but now you’re on _my_ turf.”

Ukyō, holding the front of his shirt closed with one arm, ran towards the P.E. equipment room as he produced a bag of exploding flour, like he’d used in the ring, and let it blow on entry.

* * *

“I see… that’s quite a problem,” Sachet agreed when his daughter finished tearfully explaining her problem, gently hugging her against his shoulder. “You know, I was going to wait for your birthday, but I didn’t bring _just_ some of my belongings and some cooking gear with me.”

“What do you mean, daddy?”

Sachet, in reply, reached inside a cabinet half-stocked with various ingredients and produced a small cask with crude but effective warning labels slapped on it.

“My daughter… you know of the Musk, right?”

Shampoo nodded as she beheld the cask.

“According to legend, in ancient times, the men of the Musk would capture wild animals, bring them to Jusenkyō, and throw them into the Spring of the Immersed Girl. The animals would come out as human women and, once tamed, they would bear the Musk men their children.

“I don’t know if they only used female animals, or if that even matters. To be honest, this is most I’ve ever even _considered_ to think of the Musk. I find the deeds in the legend depraved, but my love for you outweighs my opinion, my daughter. For the sake of your wellbeing, I brought this cask with me. This is water from the Spring of the Immersed Girl, my daughter, and I have my hopes that it might restore your true form.”

* * *

“Gotcha!” Ranma cried out as she spotted her target in the cloud of flour. But when she grabbed Ukyō, she felt something oddly familiar.

Ukyō, naturally, slapped Ranma in the face. “Hands off!”

“Wait, what?”

Ukyō, Ranma found out, was not a boy as she’d always thought her to be. There was really only one explanation that made sense to her.

So she grabbed Ukyō and cried out. “I’m so sorry for what happened!”

“The cart?” Ukyō asked, too confused to get out of the embrace.

“That you’d get cu-hu-hursed!”

“Did the sight of another girl’s tits fry your brain when the grill didn’t?” Ukyō asked as she finally pushed Ranma off of her. “What’s this about a curse?!”

“Back then, I thought you were a guy,” Ranma tried to explain through her inelegant and quite off-character blubbering. “That you’d gone to Jusenkyō and gotten cursed to be a girl, like I did.”

“Wait what? Cursed to be a… you mean you _weren’t_ a girl?”

“...no?” Ranma carefully answered, blinking away some tears.

“So you thought, way back then, that I was a boy… and I thought you were a girl, but you were a boy,” Ukyō recapped, pointing left and right with her free hand, the other covering her chest. “But then you…”

“Caught an ancient Chinese curse that turned me into a girl, yeah.”

“Huh. And here I thought you just dyed your hair.”

“Can’t have anything not messed up in ma life, can’t I?”

“And this was…”

“Couple months ago now.”

“Huh,” Ukyō repeated. “Guess that kinda ruins the whole point for your asshole dad to steal the cart.”

“Why’s that?” Ranma asked as she wiped off her face, stood up and walked out, Ukyō following behind her.

“That cart was supposed to be a wedding dowry.”

“Yeah, that _would_ be a problem,” Ranma agreed. She picked up the horribly bent spatula and straightened it back out as easily as she’d bent it in the first place, then offered it to her old friend. “I just have one last question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you dress like a guy?”

* * *

By the time Ranma and Akane arrived back home, she’d _just about_ figured out how matters of personal honor could drive a girl to “throw away her femininity”, as Ukyō’d explained it.

When she opened the door to her room, there was a lump in her futon.

There was not _supposed_ to be a lump in her futon. Not one that size.

Carefully, Ranma padded over and took hold of a corner.

Whatever was in her futon, she could take it.

She was not prepared to find a softly crying figure, with long purple-blue hair and covered in soft, light purple and white fur, wearing one of her Chinese shirts.

“Shampoo?”

**Author's Note:**

> For those wondering what Cologne said in Google-translated Chinese: "Your family honor is safe. This girl will take care of you." The chapter name is hardly important.


End file.
